<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Comfortember 3: Nightmares by FlyinBanachab</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27677879">Comfortember 3: Nightmares</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyinBanachab/pseuds/FlyinBanachab'>FlyinBanachab</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood &amp; Manga</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Comfort, F/M, Massage, Nightmares, No Sex, shipping in a contextless void</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:34:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>488</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27677879</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyinBanachab/pseuds/FlyinBanachab</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Breda has a nightmare; Olivier helps him get back to sleep.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Olivier Mira Armstrong/Heymans Breda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Comfortember 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Comfortember 3: Nightmares</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Unlike most of my comfortember pieces, this one is its own little pocket universe.</p>
<p>I love this ship, it's so fun to contemplate how either one of these people would show love.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Breda jolts awake, heart pounding, full of adrenaline--</p><p>Everything’s fine.<br/></p><p>He stares into the darkness, trying to focus on his breathing, trying NOT to think about the dream that just drop-kicked him into consciousness. The more he thinks about it, the more likely he is to remember it. It's not true, it didn't happen, he doesn't need to see that, picture a duck, picture it in detail, are its wings extended? What does its tail look like? Certainly nothing like the bloody corpses of a Pendleton platoon, strewn indifferently across a muddy field... certainly nothing like the bloody corpses of your best friends, cursing your complicity from broken lifeless jaws, screaming at you while you try to beg forgiveness but can’t open your mouth and try to run away and can’t move your feet and...<br/></p><p>The duck thing never worked.</p><p>He looks over at Liv. She’s sleeping, as usual, with her back to him, presenting an alluringly curvaceous silhouette. But he notes it only academically as he brushes her hair aside and curls up against her. Her skin, so soft, smelling faintly of roses; <i>this </i>is real. Her back, so strong, so warm--she doesn't like being touched while she sleeps, as they both run hot.</p><p>Havoc is fine. Hawkeye is fine. Fuery is fine. <i>This </i>is real.<br/></p><p>"Ngh?" A confused noise, too groggy to be irritated yet. He rests a hand on her hip.<br/></p><p>"Nothin, go back to sleep." Even odds she would, if he disengages soon enough. Just, give him a minute to come back to reality. That's all. "Bad dream."</p><p>"That's why you woke me up?"</p><p>"Wasn't tryin to wake you up."</p><p>"Well, you succeeded." Now her voice is full of irritation: they both knew he had committed a mortal sin. But she hasn't pulled away; they both knew he wouldn't do it except in dire circumstances. "It was just a dream, Heymans. Go back to sleep."</p><p>"No shit," he grumbles. "What do you think I'm tryin to do?"</p><p>She does pull away then, and he braces for a fight. But he doesn't get one. "Roll over," she orders. </p><p>"Aw, Liv, you don't have to--" but her eyes say that yes, she did, so he obliges, shifting onto his stomach, resting his head on his forearms. He feels her sit astride his hips (god, the strength in those thighs!) and place the heels of her hands at the base of his spine. She digs in deep, massaging in slow, circular strokes, up and down his back. <br/></p><p>It is just painful enough to short-circuit any other thoughts. It is absolutely exquisite.<br/></p><p>Without meaning to, his breath falls in sync with hers, slow, deep, steady.</p><p>The next thing he knows, he’s opening his eyes to the weak light of dawn. He’s lying on his back-- and Liv is tucked under his arm, head on his shoulder, hand on his chest. <br/></p><p>Breda smiles and closes his eyes again.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>